Senseless
by Setkia
Summary: He can't bear to see what he can't have, hear her sobs, smell Simon's cologne on her, touch her when doesn't feel the same, and he's never tasted her, so he turns off his senses and lets the pain hit him at night when no one can hear his breaking heart.


**Senseless**

**Author's Note**:_ I do not own the __**Darkest Powers.**__ I love Derek Souza, and I'm hoping to find an anti-social genius who's way too overprotective and sweet, even if he won't show it, sadly, if I ever do find someone like that, I'll miss out on the werewolf part. Anyway, this is different from my usual, like __**Genius**__, and I also didn't really expect it to turn out this way. I'm sort of stuck on __**So, Sneaking Into A Movie Star's Trailer Wasn't The Best Plan of Action,**__ but I'll update before Halloween. I've got loads of homework and articles for write for my school newspaper, it would also be awesome, if you would check out my books on FictionPress, my story is called __**The Secrets of MapleWood**__, and my pen name is the name I prefer other than Sekia, which is AJ Price. Also, if you want to help me with school, give me your top ten favorite Halloween movies! And pardon me, because I have never been in love so these are the descriptions I get from other things. It's funny I don't really believe in love, yet I write all these things. I'm a huge lover of angst though._

**Summary: He can't bear to see what he can't have, hear her sobs, smell Simon's cologne on her, touch her when doesn't feel the same, and he's never tasted her, so he turns off his senses and lets the pain hit him at night when no one can hear his breaking heart. **

**i. sight****  
**

Derek Souza's ability to see far, near, in the dark, or during the day, was one of the things he actually _liked_ about being a werewolf. He knew that while it wasn't the _greatest_ thing when mourning came around, or he when had to watch someone die in a film, or he could see his loved ones leaving him for longer than others, it helped when it was dark out.

And then _she_ came. She had beautiful strawberry blonde hair and big blue eyes that made him freeze and his heart stopped beating. His mind went blank, and when he finally managed to speak, Simon took her away.

So what was the point of seeing something you couldn't have?

Derek was fine with it most days. Most days, it didn't matter to him. She could be the most beautiful girl on earth, and Simon could have her, but Chloe Saunders was different.

She wasn't perfect. She wasn't flawless, in fact, she had tons of flaws, and he liked looking at them. He'd watch them and he wouldn't even notice he was doing it.

He liked seeing how she'd play with her hair because it wouldn't stay in place. He liked watching her rub her eyes because she didn't want any sleep to be in them, even though seeing it told him she had gotten her sleep. He liked seeing the sparkle in her eyes when she spoke about movies, or the way she raced down the stairs to the kitchen like it was a race against herself.

Finally though, when it came to be too much, seeing her go off with Simon, leaving him in the dust and having to watch them go away for much longer than most, he just closed his eyes. He refused to see it.

He knew he'd never have Chloe Saunders, but that didn't mean he didn't like looking at her. He couldn't do that anymore because she was Simon's, and Derek wasn't going to be territorial. He wasn't going to take something Simon wanted. If Chloe didn't want it, it would've been entirely different, but she wanted it.

So he just started to look _through_ her instead of _at_ her. He closed off his vision when it came to her so he wouldn't have to be hurt by the images he would see.

But at night, when he lay in bed, all the things he had seen during the day haunted him. When Chloe and Simon had held hands under the dinner table, how they had been outside playing basketball, as un-athletic as Chloe was. The smile she wore for Simon, specially crafted for Simon, the loving look in her eyes, it burned him.

So when she was there, he turned it off, and let the pain hit him in the dark where no one could see he was hurting, where no one could tell him he was hopeless, where no one could say he was only hurting himself, because he already knew, but the best he could do was close his eyes, and try to block her out.

Simon could have her. Simon should have her. Simon was good for her. Yet, Derek couldn't help wanting her.

**ii. sound**

When he couldn't see her, he choose to hear her. The sound of her stutter drove him mad, sometimes because she worried too much which would make his worries arise, or maybe because it was just so cute how she wouldn't be able to finish a sentence without stuttering. He liked her stutter while others found it to be annoying.

And then Tori had to start making fun of her stutter. He turned a deaf ear to Tori's comments, but Chloe didn't, and now when he heard her stutters, they were through sobs as she tried to fix whatever was wrong with her.

In the middle of the night, Derek would lie in bed, letting all his pain hit him, and be able to hear Chloe's through the paper thin walls.

He could hear her doubt herself, hear her say how she was just so plain, so boring, so unworthy of Simon. And it hurt.

It hurt to hear her complain, to hear her be unsatisfied with herself, even though she was perfect. Not that she saw it like that. He hated that when she got mad, she wouldn't say anything and instead break down and cry in her room, which he had to hear.

He hated to hear about how she and Simon had a wonderful day, and her constant asking if Simon liked her, because Simon did, and she liked Simon, and there was no room for Derek.

He hated to hear her cute conversations with Simon, or the flirty words they exchanged. He had to turn off his hearing to them.

Soon, he had to block her out of his sense of hearing. He couldn't bare to hear her, the joy she had when she spoke about Simon or the wails when she thought of how ugly she was.

So at night, after spending a day not only turning a blind eye, but a deaf ear, he lets it all hit him, full in the chest and the heartache increases, without including the fact that he's a werewolf and that even if Simon wasn't around, she wouldn't choose him because he's nothing special. He's nothing but a werewolf who's too stupid to think that what he's doing is killing himself with a metaphorical dagger, with words and sights that pierce him worse than any bullet.

But he's going to do it because he can't let it show during the day because during the day, he has to be level headed, he has to be the smart one, the calm, cool collected one. He can't afford to let his emotions take control.  
So he sees and hears the pain at night, where no one can see his mental break down, becoming worse and worse with each passing night.

**iii. smell**

So he can't hear her and he can't see her, but he thinks, _maybe_ he can smell her. He can smell her strawberry shampoo and her vanilla chap-stick. He can smell her and he'll be fine, won't he? He can live off that sense, he's done it so many times before, where he's relied on his nose to help his out of a situation, why can't he do it now?

Because now a days, when she comes back, she doesn't smell like strawberries or vanilla. She smells like chocolate ice cream, of grass, and of Simon's Axe cologne. She doesn't smell like herself anymore. She smells like she's been to the ice cream parlour with Simon, had wonderfully good tasting chocolate ice cream, rolled in the grass with him, and had him hold her close.

And it's starting to hurt so much, sometimes he can't be in the same room as her. He can't stand to be there, crazy for her while she's in love with Simon and she won't give him a second of attention and now he's going crazy and he needs something to anchor him to this world because soon, he won't be able to smell her without feeling a bullet to the heart.

How is he going to do this? How is he supposed to live if he has to cut off nearly all his ways of interacting with her? How is he supposed to survive? He's no longer living, he's only surviving off the small interactions she has with him and he's craving them more and more because when they're all in a group, he has to act like she isn't there, like he can't hear her or see her, or smell her now.

And at night, everything is piling.

All the terrible visions, all the things he heard, all the smells he smelt on her skin come to him and he sometimes falls off his bed, the agony tearing him apart. Knowing that he'll never have her.

Knowing he isn't good enough, that he's just a monster who by some miracle was able to love, but it's turned into his worst nightmare because he just can't interact with her at all without feeling pain.

**iv. touch**

He can't believe he didn't think of this, because it's so simple. Touch her. Hold her hand, push away a strand of hair, touch her shoulder in an attempt of comfort, maybe even hug her if he's lucky.

It's simple, and he'll have no problem doing it, and now he's craving it like an alcoholic who's gone three weeks without booze. The greatest part is that she doesn't even care that he touches her.

She doesn't care that during meals, his leg will brush against her by accident, or they'll go for the same piece of bacon at the same time, or that when she has a nightmare, she runs into his room and climbs into his bed so now he isn't the one initiating all contact.

It's so great, how she'll come and she won't even think of going to Simon, but she'll come to him.

But then it hurts.

It hurts because she doesn't feel that electrical current that shoots up his arm and makes him forget his name. It hurts she touches other people just as often as she touches him. It hurts she does it mainly because she's just a friendly person.

It hurts because when she climbs into his bed because of a nightmare, he'll hold her tight and die trying not to say the three words on his lips, so he'll mouth them into her hair, and keep quiet. It hurts that she's so close, but not close enough and he's going insane, wondering what each touch meant, and then realizing it never meant as much to her as it did to him.

Now, it's finally too much. He's lying in his bed, the sights he saw, the things he heard, the smells he had to endure, and the feel of her in his arms is forever imprinted in his mind, and now he feels so empty, and he knows he's doomed.  
He knows he's practically broken and that he can't go on like this and he's just got to cut her out.

But he doesn't want to.

**v. taste**

He's down to his last sense. Taste. But he's never tasted her and he's practically running on empty.

He can only imagine what she tastes like, somewhat like that vanilla chap-stick and a bit like those chocolate chip cookies she loves so much. He can only imagine and now he's run out of steam, and he's ready to crack.

And then she does it. She pushes him off the edge, and suddenly he's nearly emotionally dead.

She asks him what's wrong and he ignores her, having shut off his hearing.

She'll look at him strangely, but he'll pretend he doesn't see her because he's made himself blind. She'll come so close that if his nose wasn't off, he could've smelt her strawberry shampoo, and he'd also know she doesn't smell like Simon. He'd feel her too, if he hadn't shut off his sense of touch, because she keeps patting his arm, worrying, but he doesn't see because he's made himself senseless and the only one that's still working is one she can't disturb.

Until she does.

She grabs him and presses her lips against his and he's in shock, at first not registering it, until suddenly, she's running her tongue across his bottom lip and he responds. His sense of touch is back.

He groans, and he hears her moan, and suddenly, he can hear.

He's able to feel.

She pulls him closer and her smell encircles him until he's dizzy and it dawns on him he can smell.

His nose is beginning to open up around her.

And then, when she finally draws back, her breathing uneasy, panting, his smell now on her, his touch now electrifying her, his gasps affecting her, and her hair's all messed up and his lips now have a faint vanilla taste, and the look of want, need, of _love_ in her eyes make him realize something: he's finally got all his senses back.


End file.
